


Not Your Shirt

by modernraceownsairpods



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M, Unreq!Ralbert because i love hurting albert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 10:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18715012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modernraceownsairpods/pseuds/modernraceownsairpods
Summary: “Why are you wearing Albert’s shirt?”Race laughed. “Well, it’s a weird story…” He rubbed his neck, embarassed. “I… I kinda had a breakdown before I came here, because I didn’t know what to wear, and nothing looked good and I started freaking out, and uh, Albert helped calm me down. He let me borrow one of his shirts… Said I looked great in it too,”Spot was silent for a while, the movie being the only noise in the room. Then, “Take it off.”“What?”“His shirt, take it off.”





	Not Your Shirt

Albert had just gotten home from his class, loaded down with homework and wanting nothing more than to lie down and sleep through the weekend. Calling out to his roommate, he waited for Race to return the greeting. He didn’t. That was weird, Race was usually bright and energetic on Friday afternoons. A brief look around the apartment proved that Race wasn’t there, but his bedroom door was closed. He knocked, before poking his head in. Shirts covered every square inch of the room, from the bed to one hanging from the fan on the ceiling. There was Race, sitting in the middle of his floor, looking like he was about to cry.

“Alb?” He looked at him helplessly.

“Woah, woah, hey, what’s going on? Racer, what happened?”

“I’m trying to find a shirt for a date with Spot tonight.” Albert’s heart twisted at the mention of Racer’s boyfriend.

“And you had to fuck up your room to do so?”

“I’ve tried on every single shirt I own, nothing looks good, I don’t know what to do, they all look terrible on me, I’m freaking out, I don’t know what I’m going to do, I know we’ve been dating for three months but I’m seriously thinking about cancelling, and—I just don’t know…” His words get faster and faster as his breathing increases to the point where he’s practically hyperventilating.

Albert recognized the signs of sensory overload and immediately sat down next to him. “Racer, take a breath with me, okay? Deep breaths, four seconds in, five seconds out.” They breathed for a moment before Albert took his hands in his own. “Come to my room. It’s less messy and less overwhelming. I’m going to get some water for you, okay?” He got up and dashed to get some cold water. Returning, he found Race sitting on Albert’s bed, rubbing his eyes.

“Thanks, Alb.” He whispers, taking the glass from Albert’s hand.

“Can you talk without hyperventilating now?” Race lifted the water to his mouth and drank for a little before nodding.

“Tony, I know for a fact, Spot’ll think you’re gorgeous no matter what you’re wearing. And if he doesn’t, he’s a stupid bastard who doesn’t deserve you.” His heart twisted again as Race let out a small chuckle.

“I still have no fucking idea what I’m gonna wear.”

“Hey, if you want to, you can wear one of my shirts.” He went to his closet and began pulling out random shirts. “Say stop when you see something you like.”

He did, and Albert paused on a dark grey muscle shirt. “Here, this one’s my favorite. Try it on,” he said, throwing it to the boy on the bed. Without a second through, Race stripped of his shirt and tugged on the new one. It took most of Albert’s willpower to force himself to look away.

“Ta da..?”

Albert looked and almost swore. “Hey,” He couldn’t help a smile. “You look great! I mean, you look pretty good! With a shirt like that, Spot won’t be able to resist ya.”

Race looked at himself in the mirror for a moment before throwing himself into the arms of his friend. “God I love you, Albert.”

Albert froze. He didn’t mean to, it just happened.

Race pulled out of the hug. “…Al?”

He snapped out of it. “Yeah? Uh, sorry," He let out a laugh. "Just remembered something, I—I left my, my gym bag… at the gym. I left my gym bag at the gym and I need to go get it, I probably won’t be back before you leave for your date so I’ll see you when you come home, see ya!” He bolted out of the room before his blush could catch up to him.

Race just laughed, confused, before texting Spot; “heading over soon”. He left to catch the bus.

Spot and Race were snuggled up on the couch when it happened. Spot put his head on Race’s shoulder and immediately recoiled as if he’d been slapped, startling Race out of the stupor of the movie.

“Racetrack.”

“What?”

“Whose shirt are you wearing?”

“Oh, it’s Albert’s.”

Silence.

“Racetrack.”

“What?”

“Why are you wearing Albert’s shirt?”

Race laughed. “Well, it’s a weird story…” He rubbed his neck, embarassed. “I… I kinda had a breakdown before I came here, because I didn’t know what to wear, and nothing looked good and I started freaking out, and uh, Albert helped calm me down. He let me borrow one of his shirts… Said I looked great in it too,”

“Really?” Spot looked up at his boyfriend. “Hmmm, someone seems little into you.” Race scoffed. “Can’t blame him though, what’s not to love?”

“C’mon Spottie. Albert? We’ve been best friends for almost seven years now. You’re just jealous.”

Spot was silent for a while, the movie being the only noise in the room. Then, “Take it off.”

“What?”

“His shirt, take it off.”

Race laughed. “Come on, Spottie, you’ve gotta be joking.” The look on Spot’s face told him otherwise.

“Not in the slightest. Besides, I like you better when you’re not wearing anything.”

“Jesus Christ, Conlon, calm your tits.” Race laughed and discarded the shirt with a roll of his eyes.

“Much better,” Spot smiled and settled back, his head resting on Race’s chest.

The movie finished with no other shenanigans except a kiss or two or three or five or ten, and the title theme was looping endlessly, but the duo were too busy with each other to turn off the TV.

Race finally pulled away, “I needa go, Spottie. I’ve got an essay due at midnight and I haven’t started yet.”

“Just get a zero.” Spot said from the crook of his neck.

“I can’t do that, babe, I’ll fail the class if I don’t do it.”

“God, college ruins everything.” Spot muttered.

“Except my future, Spot.”

With a groan, Spot got up, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Okay, but I’m driving you home.” Race knew he couldn’t argue.

—

They pulled up in front of the apartment complex Race lived in and both Spot and Race got out of the car. When questioned, Spot only replied, “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t walk to you to the door?” Race just rolled his eyes and took his hand.

Before Race could unlock his door, Spot pulled him in for a kiss, moving down towards his neck, leaving several marks before pulling away, winking, and wishing him goodnight.

Race stumbled into the apartment, eyes glazed and head clouded. Albert poked his head out from the hallway. “How was your date?—Oh my god,” He went red as he saw the many hickeys lining his friend’s neck as well as his messy hair. “I take it went well then..?” He asked, angry at himself when his heart sunk into his toes.

“Extremely.“

Race almost cried when he went into his room. He had been expecting his mess of shirts everywhere, but instead, all shirts were hanging neatly on the rack in the closet. The floor looked vacuumed, too. There was a note on the desk. ”Race: hope you don’t mind, I cleaned your room a bit. You didn’t deserve to have to clean up all that mess.“ There was a scratched out bit before Albert had signed his name, Race could make out the first word, ‘L’. It had been replaced with a hastily written "from Albert”.


End file.
